A Whole New Day
by DEI Caboose
Summary: With his father gone, Gohan is now the strongest of earth's warriors. Charged with the protection of his home, his mother and soon to be born baby brother, Gohan must battle his own self-doubt to live up to his father's wishes, however, a scornful Vegeta and the emergence of new threats leads Gohan to realise that he might not be as ready for this task as his father first thought.
1. One Day More

**New story! Few things to note for those of you curious: Gohan and Vegeta are the focus, each with their own arcs though Gohan is more predominant. Goku will not appear. Updates will be _slowww_ because I'm very busy, I just find it easier to continue a story rather than having to start at the beginning at a later date, the story will be finished when it's finished which will probably be awhile.**

 **Chi-Chi fans can also look forward to her as she's an actual character here and not just an annoyance. Gohan is also 9, canonically, according to Kai and the manga, he is 16 during Buu which would make him 9, technically 10 due to the time chamber, during Cell. I aim to differentiate this story from all the other Gohan angsts about Goku's death, will it be addressed? Of course, but the point of this story is to show that Goku was not Gohan's entire world, just a part of it. Vegeta is also coming to terms with Goku's death, mainly because I don't see many stories that address his whole "I will never fight again" speech.**

 **Basically, story is after Cell, may or may not be AU, enjoy!**

* * *

Tomorrow was a whole new day.

It just wasn't the day Son Gohan had been hoping for.

His flight towards the Capsule Corporation had been quiet on the morning of that new day, far quieter than any journey Gohan had undertaken at any point during the past three years of his short young life.

He could feel the wind rustle his short black hair and droplets of water splash against his dark suit as he instinctively shot through the air atop the sea, causing it to part ways under the reach of his blue aura. The sky shone a light blue as the early morning sun rose against the horizon. Gohan couldn't help but squint as he took in the sight, the light of the sun and his residual feelings of tiredness forcing him to draw a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the uncomfortable feeling away.

He did not get much sleep the night before, the events of the day prior lingering heavily on his mind, as well as their consequences.

But today was a whole new day.

A whole new day which Gohan needed to face.

Nobody said anything beyond simple greetings once he arrived within the lush green gardens of the Corporation, nor did Gohan decide to say anything to anyone in return. There was little he could think to say anyway. The time machine sat alone within the yard, the scratched surface of its outlandish yellow metal hull seeming quite out of place compared to the trees and flowers that littered the ground and the angler buildings looming in the background.

Gohan and his friends lined the grass once the last of them had arrived, all staring out with smiles on their faces as Trunks held his past mother's hands and gave a glance in his father's direction, who was leaning against a tree with an unreadable look and scowl upon his face. Krillin had strategically positioned himself next to the son of his best friend almost from the moment he had arrived. Gohan didn't decide to ask why, knowing Krillin had his reasons for doing so.

The mood was sombre for more reasons than one. All of them felt the fatigue of the previous day lingering upon their minds. Gohan noticed the brief looks they all shot him, the raising of their brows, the sympathetic frowns they held as if they were looking at a wounded animal. He could feel their pity glowing within their ki. Gohan was thankful they at least understood not to touch upon the subject, even though it was obviously the only thing upon everyone's mind after the fact Trunks was about to depart for good.

Cell.

Goku.

It was enough to cause them all to take a longer glance at each other once they all realised just how close they had all come to utter annihilation.

And to think, they owe'd their lives to a nine-year-old boy.

A boy that had yet to realise that the rest of his life now laid before him.

Gohan and the others yelled their goodbyes as the craft lifted into the air, surrounding itself in an artificial aura of its own before it blinked out of existence not but a moment later.

That was it. Trunks was gone. The androids were dealt with. The world had been saved and the future was apparently a bright one. But the cost had been high, maybe even too high.

But Gohan only had one thought on his mind then.

 _Now what?_

Gohan knew he was smart, yet he still didn't have an answer.

It plagued him the whole way home, his experiences of everything that had occurred over the past few days seeming like nothing more than a distant memory.

It was the first time in a long time that Gohan knew peace.

And peace was unfamiliar territory, shrouded in uncertainty.

He thought to ask his mother what she thought to do now, but despite his assurance that she would have the answers he sought, Gohan instead decided to simply return to the routine he had adopted since he had returned home from Namek so many years back. He studied, he played, he studied, he ate, day after day after day. For the past three, technically four years, Gohan trained more than he had relaxed as was expected of him by his father and mentor. It had been so long though, so many years and so many trials.

The day after the first day of the rest of his life, Gohan realised he didn't know how to be a kid. He didn't know what to do after everything that had happened.

Instead he realised that with the death of his father and the awakening of his dormant inner power, the weight of the world now rested upon his shoulders.

And that thought scared Gohan.

When he was scared, Gohan would go to his dad. His dad always understood Gohan's anxieties and his hesitations, saying that he was young and inexperienced so it was only natural of him to feel that way. As time went on Gohan had hid those feelings as much as he could, burrowing them deep within himself to make it known to all the others that he would stand beside them as an equal and not as a liability.

Not like he was against Raditz, Nappa and Vegeta.

He pushed those feelings of fear away as far as he could.

But those fears had made themselves know to the world the moment his dad called his name to fight against Cell.

It was in that moment that Gohan questioned his father.

But then everything had transpired according to his father's design. Gohan had defeated Cell, ended his reign of terror, and ascended past the boundaries of Super Saiyan to surpass his father in power.

Yet his dad was still dead and this time he wasn't coming back. Not for the rest of Gohan's life.

A week had passed since the end of the Cell Games, and every day the glance Gohan directed towards the empty space at the dinner table was just that much longer.

And the week after that Gohan found that he couldn't fall asleep again. It was as if everything became clear for the first time in his life, the veil upon his mind had been lifted.

His dad was dead.

He was always going to be dead.

Gohan was the man of the house now. But he was still a child.

He was a child who wanted the comfort of his parents. To tell him that it was going to be okay, that the future was far brighter than it looked at that moment.

He wanted the ending he'd always wished for.

Gohan crawled out of bed and shuffled towards the door, his shoulders slacking as he discreetly made his way down the hall in the direction of the living room, the crackle of the lit fireplace within resonating throughout the entirety of the small house.

It wasn't that late really; the sun had only just begun to lower and the sky shone a deep orange. The light shined through the windows and cast Gohan in a golden light. He could hear the turning of the pages of a book, right in front of him where his mother's energy emitted itself; strong and unwavering despite all that had occurred. This was not the first-time Chi-Chi had lost her husband and she was not just the strongest woman on the planet in strength alone; she was resilient, tempered when out of her depth but stoic when the time called.

And she knew that as much as it hurt to lose her husband, her son took precedence.

So when Gohan walked into the living room looking the way he did, she dropped the book she held in an instant and hugged him dearly, his grip against her far too strong for a child his age. She whispered soothingly and stroked his hair, bringing him into her arms so she could sit herself back upon the couch.

"I miss him," he mumbled against her, the warrior disposition he had adopted after years of honing fading under his mother's warm gaze.

"I know, Gohan," she whispered back. "I miss him too."

How was Gohan supposed to do this? How was he supposed to be the one to protect the earth now? He didn't know how. There was so much about the world he still didn't know.

He wasn't even sure if he wanted to be the one to protect the earth. That was his dads job.

 _But dad's not here_ Gohan reminded himself as he leaned his head against Chi-Chi's shoulder. _Dad's dead, and he's not coming back._

The weight of the world now rested upon Gohan's shoulders, his father had left the responsibility of earths protection to him. It was peacetime now, that was a certainty, but how long would it last? How long until the next Cell arrived? Who, if not Gohan, would be the one to stop it?

The power he now held had one purpose, the purpose entrusted to him by his father.

As Gohan sat there in his mother's arms, he came to know one thing for certain; his dad was gone, and he was all his mother and the earth had left now.

And he would not make the same mistakes he made with Cell ever again.

For tomorrow was a whole new day and Gohan intended to seize it, however difficult it may be.


	2. The Mourning Prince

**I should probably say but I do appreciate feedback, I know it's inconvenient but please do give me your thoughts, can't grow as a writer if I don't know what works and what doesn't. Thanks to you all!**

* * *

 _ **Six Months Later**_

Any light that the full moon may have shone upon the earth was blocked behind a thick layer of dark clouds and rising fog. The streets and slums of West City were bleak and quiet, shrouded in silence, forcing whoever decided to wander the pavements to quicken their pace and return to the comfort of their homes given the lateness of the hour and the darkness of the night.

Vegeta was quite content as he wandered down the desolate road.

Clad in his blue training coverall and a human garment the woman insisted he wear given the slowly harshening conditions of weather, Vegeta walked a slow, meagre pace. His footsteps tracking in the thin layer of snow that lay upon the pavement. This Earth continued to prove to be a curious world; very rarely did Vegeta encounter a planet that shifted seasons as frequently and as routinely as this little blue and green planet he found himself upon did.

Not that Vegeta cared at all, it was just one of his many observations of his time spent here. He'd spent much of his life traversing the stars and conquering planets in Frieza's name, barely choosing to spend more than a month on any given world at a time.

Then he came to Earth, and for some reason he was still here.

The woman had welcomed him, as did Kakarot when he eventually returned from the desolation of Planet Namek, then with the threat of the androids and the raging thrill to partake in the looming battle, Vegeta found himself remaining on this world, if only to destroy those pathetic androids, attain the legendary form of Super Saiyan and defeat Kakarot once and for all as he had vowed to do so seemingly so long ago.

Except now Kakarot was dead and the androids and Cell had been dealt with by his child. Yet despite this, Vegeta had yet to leave the Earth, had yet to resume his conquest for the galaxy as he had aspired to do since he was a boy.

He didn't know for certain _why_ he was still here, just that he was. Vegeta had his suspicions but he refused to considered them for more than a moment as they aggravated him to no end, yet the thoughts continued to plague him however hard he tried to expel them from his mind.

That damn woman and her damn baby. _His_ damn baby.

How could he have lowered himself to such levels as to breed with a lower lifeform such as these humans?

Why didn't he just destroy this world years ago when he had the chance?

 _Because of that bastard Kakarot!_

"Idiot," Vegeta cursed under his breath.

The infuriating clown of a Saiyan had achieved the legacy destined for Vegeta alone. He had bested him in combat and had continued to outpace Vegeta every step of the way since. He had even died an honourable death, a warriors death, but not by Vegeta's hands.

And then his half-breed whelp of a son had surpassed him too, by such a significant margin it made all of Vegeta's trials and efforts seen pathetic by comparison.

What kind of warrior was bested by a lower-class fighter and a pacifistic brat?

A warrior that Vegeta was no longer.

In the six months since the Cell Games, Vegeta had never trained with the fierceness and intensity the others had renowned him for.

His passion for fighting was apparently gone.

All thanks to that blasted Kakarot!

Vegeta spat at the earth as he rounded another corner, taking in the sights of the shimmering glass buildings and the glowing lights within. With the knowledge that he would apparently be staying on this planet indefinitely, if reluctantly, Vegeta had decided to gather his bearings. In the past four years he'd been staying here very rarely did he venture out beyond the walls of his gravity chamber to the world outside, but given the fact his new disposition left him with a lot of free time Vegeta routinely found himself walking throughout the streets of the cities, if only to avoid the woman's nagging and Trunks' excessive crying.

 _Damn infant, his behaviour is unbecoming of a Saiyan._

And soon he would have to put up with Kakarot's soon to be born second brat as well.

Vegeta almost swore he could hear the idiot laughing at him from above.

This was what his mighty warrior race had been reduced to, half-breeds and embarrassments.

Yet their abilities were unparalleled. Gohan and his future son were evidence enough.

It sickened Vegeta to no end.

How? How could he have been outpaced so much? Why was the boy the prodigy of a fighter he was? His performance during the Cell Games was remarkable, even by Vegeta's standards. It was simply obscene that he could be so strong yet so young.

He had even saved Vegeta's life.

And Vegeta had apologised to him. He had apologised to that brat, that stupid little kid.

That stupid kid had gone so far.

Vegeta did not look back on that memory fondly. The sheer… feelings he had when Trunks had been struck down was blinding to the point he abandoned all rational and attacked that android freak head on. Yet as quickly as the rush had come it was gone, and Vegeta had been thrown aside like a piece of garbage.

He got that bastard back in the end, the look upon Cell's face when Vegeta's Big Bang attack had made contact was enough to make him grin.

It almost made knowing that the boys power far outstripped his own bearable, if only to know it was the ultimate cause of Cell's downfall.

Almost.

And that was the way it seemed destined to be; Vegeta, outdone by a child and never again able to prove his superiority against the Saiyan reject he so despised.

What left was there to do now except wander and wait?

Slowing his already slow pace, Vegeta came to a halt by an old-fashioned tavern of some sort. He had evidently stumbled into the outskirts of the city, the layers of lights shining behind him, glowing in the fog. He recognised this place as one he frequented often to the point the bartender had begun to recognise him, that, and the hefty bill Vegeta racked up and paid for with the woman's money was enough to leave the man seemingly heart-eyed at Vegeta's very presence.

The Prince thought of this place fondly; it reminded him of the days where he was out of Frieza's gaze, wandering the galaxy to purge and pillage at his heart's content. Continuing his work here on Earth did not hold the appeal it once did. Also, he was assured that the woman and the pitiful fighters of this planet would not appreciate it.

Vegeta would never admit to himself that he was almost starting to feel protective of this place.

His head veered forwards as he stomped through the door, the bartender's face appearing to light up brighter than the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

Hours passed, the time ticking away as swiftly as the months that preceded. Vegeta's Saiyan appetite guaranteed that he never went overboard with the beverages he consumed, but the woman's money ensured that he nevertheless had plenty in supply.

The night went on, the noise grew louder and the humans grew drunker; still celebrating their salvation from Cell at that hands of their world champion. They felt empowered, at one point choosing to chant Mr. Satan's name in a tipsy daze.

One individual did not take kindly to the fact that a flame haired man sat at the bar ignored the praise for their hero.

The human laid his hand upon Vegeta's shoulder, his burly friends flanking him. His grip yielded no results as Vegeta continued to sit, a glass in his hand and a scowl upon his face. The bottle he held was half-empty and he looked at it as if in contemplation as to what he wanted to do with it.

Apparently making a decision, Vegeta brought the bottle to his lips, downing the rest of the liquid. He held the bottle in one hand while proceeding to grip the man's in the other and smirked wide with a vicious snarl.

"You just made the worst mistake of your life, moron," Vegeta sneered as he shattered the glass against the man's head.


	3. Sweet Karma

The sun creeped between the seams of the curtains, shining onto Gohan's face as he awoke disgruntled with a childish murmur of annoyance, yearning for a few more precious moments with his fluffy white pillow. He'd been having such a nice dream too; being lost in a chocolate mansion which for some reason was also made of marshmallow, as well as ice cream, somehow all at the same time and yet never in the same instance.

His dreams may not have made much sense, but at least they were joyful. Gohan would take a nonsensical sugar mansion over whatever else his mind tried to conjure up at the most inopportune moments.

Rolling out of bed, Gohan could not help but instinctively shiver against the coldness of the air. December was almost upon them and the world had already begun to freeze over, snow having already started to fall upon the western parts of the world. The winds and clouds had yet to grace the skyline of Mount Paozu but Gohan was sure it wouldn't be that much longer. The thought of snow alone was enough to elevate him from his sleepy slump, after all, what nine-and-a-half-year-old didn't like Christmas?

After stretching his back out to relieve the stiffness he still felt, Gohan peeked towards his alarm, spotting the time as being 8:00am. Today was a day that deviated from Gohan's normal routine of studying, chores, and light exercise. His mother had agreed to give him the day off as thanks for his continued good behaviour and for the help he gave around the house. Chi-Chi considered a break for Gohan was more than deserved.

Shockingly for Chi-Chi, it had been _Gohan_ himself that had insisted he didn't need a break, completely willing to put up with his studies and utterly reluctant to do anything else that involved leaving his mother's side. Chi-Chi had seen through his protests in an instant, assuring Gohan that as proud as she was of him for looking out for his mother and soon to be born baby brother, he was still overworked and needed a rest. Tending to the needs of their home was the responsibility of the parent, not the son as Chi-Chi explicitly made clear.

So Gohan relented, now finding himself with a free day to do whatever he wanted. He just needed to find a way to fill it.

After washing, drying, and throwing on a mini replica of his late father's Gi, Gohan made his way down towards the kitchen, already able to smell the results of his mother's cooking.

"Morning, Mom," Gohan chirped as he jumped up to his seat.

"Good morning, Gohan," Chi-Chi responded with her back turned, finishing up preparing Gohan's last plate. She turned to place it in front of her waiting son, smiling brightly upon noticing Gohan's choice of clothes. "You really like wearing that old thing, don't you?" She ran a hand through his recently cut hair as she walked by to sit herself down also, grunting slightly as her rapidly rounding belly spiked in pain for a second. "If it weren't for a few out of place locks and your magnificent brain I'd say you _were_ your father. You even inherited his appetite."

Gohan held his laugh as he dug in, relishing in the exquisite taste of his mother's cooking. "Thanks, Mom," he said with his mouth full, only to be swiftly reprimanded by Chi-Chi for doing so. His year of training with Goku in the time chamber had left him with more than a few bad habits.

Chi-Chi tolerated some of the more innocent ones, if only because they were some of the many attributes of Goku that continued to live on in their son.

Finishing promptly, leaving a stack of neatly pilled plates and bowls by the sink in his wake, Gohan rose from his seat and ran towards the door. He had an empty day before him and he intended to make the most of it. "Mom! I'm going out, don't know when I'll be back!"

"You'll be back before dinner if you know what's good for you, young man!" Chi-Chi shot back from her position at the table, though it was with a humoured tone.

Gohan gave a curt nod in response and leapt into the air in a spiral, his blue aura igniting as he shot towards the north. He almost regretted leaving so promptly, the short sleeves of his blue undershirt did little to protect him from the elements, the rushing winds forcing him to hug himself and chatter his teeth. " _Ohhh_ , bad idea. Should have worn a coat," he mumbled out as he climbed through the clouds.

He gave a light smirk as a thought came to mind. "No point in going cold on purpose," he stated to himself in a knowing tone. His eyes turning emerald as the words left his mouth. With little more than a hum his hair glowed gold, sticking up slightly on its ends and causing Gohan's aura to blaze a similar colour. He immediately felt the warming effects of his transformation wash over him like a blanket, dispelling the frost that had begun to coat him.

"That's better," he said with laugh, launching himself further and faster than he had been able to before. His mastered Super Saiyan form just made everything that much more convenient and he just couldn't _not_ abuse the abilities he possessed for such menial purposes such as this. Gohan often wondered what Vegeta would think about that; to see the legendary form of Super Saiyan be reduced to a child's plaything.

Of course, Gohan was not completely ignorant of responsibility he had for the privilege he was granted. Power was only of use to those who respected it, squandering his abilities and undoing the years of work he had achieved would accomplish nothing for anyone. Piccolo and his father had taught him that, and he respected their teachings.

Still, he was a Super Saiyan, and Super Saiyan meant not freezing.

Rocketing through the air, Gohan heard the 'boom' of his speed as he broke his pace and changed direction. He twisted and turned as he broke through the clouds, the rays of sunlight from above glowing against his form. His destination was in sight; Dende's Lookout was visible upon the horizon.

Gohan threw a leg back and his arms braced as he built up speed, his aura glowing fierce for a fraction of a second. He suddenly shot further into the sky like a bullet, a golden streak left in his wake. He manoeuvred himself through the air and veered down towards the centre of the Lookout, the Ki's of his friends radiating from within.

He halted his speed at the last possible second to avoid crashing straight through the lookout. His knees bent and his back slanted as he touched down, the marble tiles cracking on impact. Gohan gave a meek squeak as he looked beneath his boots, cringing at the sight of the indentations he'd unintentionally left. He resisted the urge to whistle in nonchalance as he walked a brisk pace towards the main castle of the Lookout, hoping his blunder would go unnoticed.

"I hope making flamboyant entrances doesn't become a habit of yours, kid."

Gohan froze where he stood at the archway of the temple, looking up to his side to see the always welcomed sight of his mentor Piccolo, floating in the air with his arms crossed and his face forever firm… Or at least as firm as it could be being in Gohan's presence.

The boy chuckled nervously, not anticipating Piccolo to be _right there_ , but then again at this point he probably should have expected it. Piccolo just always seemed to pop up however convenient or inconvenient it was. In regards to his entrance however, Gohan thought it was okay except for his blunder with the tiles so he didn't know what exactly was _flamboyant_ about it. But then again he didn't actually know what flamboyant really meant, he'd heard Vegeta say it to his dad a few times so maybe it was an insult?

"Hey, Piccolo!" Gohan blurted out, waving as he did, somewhat overcoming his prior nervousness and discarding his prior thoughts. He droped out of his Super Saiyan form as he did, the change being as easy as an exhale.

The former demon king smirked in reply. "Hey, kid," he stated as he lowered himself to the ground. "What brings you up here? It's unlike your mother to let you out this early."

"Heh heh," Gohan began, holding his hand to the back of his head. "Well Mom gave me the day off from studying and chores, she says I'm overworked." Gohan suddenly crossed his arms and resisted the urge to pout. "I'm not overworked, I'm old enough to help her, even if she says I'm not."

Piccolo rolled his eyes and Gohan's antics. "You're nine, Gohan. I doubt your-"

"Nine and a half."

Piccolo blinked. "What?"

"I'm nine and a half. Not nine," Gohan stated factually, holding a serious frown with his hands on his hips. "There's a difference."

"Fine whatever," Piccolo grumbled in reply, not choosing to dignify the subject. "My point is it's understandable your mother would want you to get out and enjoy yourself for a change. From what I gather, human children aren't typically the ones responsible for their family, the parent is, as your mother is for you."

Gohan grumbled, but accepted his master's logic nevertheless. "I guess," he said lowly, uncrossing his arms and turning towards the edge of the Lookout. "But if I don't who will?"

Piccolo decided not to entertain this topic any longer, Goku's death was still far too fresh in Gohan's mind for Piccolo to guide him any more than he already had. The past six months for the Son family had been filled with multiple trials and tribulations, all stemming from the loss of one of their own. The announcement of a new addition to the family however was the beginning of a great change that was still taking affect; a change noticeable in Gohan most of all.

Gohan remembered the day well; the day he knew he was going to be a brother.

He'd experienced a rush of emotions. Fear. Worry. Regret. But all were overcome by inexplicable joy.

"Mom, what's wrong? Is this about you getting sick?" Gohan remembered asking when his mother sat him down one day some months ago now.

"No, Gohan, I'm not sick, in fact I couldn't be more perfect," Chi-Chi had stated with a slowly widening grin.

Gohan had looked up at her perplexed, and Chi-Chi had been more than happy to explain. "Gohan, how would you like to be a big brother?"

Gohan couldn't actually remember what had happened after that exactly, his mind went utterly blank as he absorbed everything his mother told him. He couldn't have been in more disbelief once it was all over.

He was going to be a brother.

 _He_ was getting a little brother or a sister.

That brother or sister was never going to meet their father.

But Gohan was going to be a brother.

Selfish? Perhaps, but Gohan's initial joy outweighed his regrets by a wide margin.

But over the past six months however, those fears would creep their way out of the depths of his mind. One day he was sure he would have to confront them, a day he was certain grew nearer along with the imminent arrival of his, now know to be a boy, baby brother.

Gohan didn't know what he was going to do when that day finally came.

"Tell me about this, Gohan."

Piccolo's voice was sudden, breaking Gohan from his self-induced trance. The boy looked over at his mentor, who was standing over the cracks in the floor he had made when he had arrived. Gohan blinked in alarm.

"Oh, that? I um… Well-"

"I assumed you had control over your power," Piccolo said as his antennas alit with a glow and the cracks were mended in an instant. "So, either I was mistaken or your control is slipping. You assured me that you were keeping up with your training the last time you were here."

"I am!" Gohan shot back in defence, he posture growing meek under Piccolo's warning gaze. "Well… I mean I'm maintaining control over the power I _had_ , but since the Cell Games I got a lot stronger… Saiyan genes and all that."

"Hmm," Piccolo nodded in acknowledgment. "In that case, you need to assert control over your new strength, especially that new form you acquired, that kind of power is dangerous if you can't overcome the strain of using it-"

Piccolo would have explained further, but the way Gohan's face seemed to simply drop at the mention of his new Super Saiyan transformation was enough to make him halt in his explanation. Gohan's skin seemed to turn paler than it already was, he averted his gaze away from Piccolo and he shuffled about where he stood as if he was ready to leapt into the air and shoot off into the sky in retreat.

It was enough to make Piccolo raise a brow in concern. "What's wrong, Gohan," he asked, firmly but with encouragement.

Gohan took a moment to reply, still looking away as if he was being scolded. "It's just…" he slowly began, refusing to allow his voice to tremble. "That much power, it was just too much too fast. I could barely contain it… I barely held onto myself."

Piccolo remained silent, considering Gohan's evident hesitation to discuss his newly discovered Super Saiyan form. "I can't pretend to know just what you feel when you go Super Saiyan, Gohan, and I can only assume that the effect is amplified by going a stage beyond, but you need to learn how to use it. That power is within you, whether you like it or not, it would be better to have it as an asset rather than a liability."

Gohan did not have a counterargument, at least not one he was willing to voice. "I'll get right on that," he said half-heartily, unsure, even to himself, if he was lying or not.

The rest of his time on the Lookout was mellow by comparison. Gohan spent his time talking to Dende, eating a second breakfast presented by Mr. Popo and annoying Piccolo to no end partly and unintentionally on purpose. Within time the awkwardness and fears he experienced from his conversation with Piccolo faded from memory.

But as Gohan had acknowledged before, one day soon those fears were going to amount, they were going to become unbearable to contain and he was going to have to confront them, whatever the consequences.


	4. Western Welcome

"Bye guys, I'll see you later!"

Gohan's voice resonated off of the walls of the Lookout's palace as he sped down the halls and leapt out of an open window, waving back at Piccolo, Dende and Mr. Popo as he did. He swivelled in the air and darted downwards, circling Korin's Tower and grinning at the mystical cat that stood contemplatively within. Gohan had made a habit of greeting Korin after seeing Dende; he was one of his father's oldest friends after all.

He ruffled the long sleeves of his newly materialised blue undershirt; Piccolo had granted Gohan's request to extend the length of the garment down to his wrists, if only because it provided a little bit more protection against the chill of the air.

As Gohan's direction turned west he took a moment to gaze upon the lush white landscape, being this far west in the world meant the clouds had grown slightly darker and the snowfall ever greater. Light ice crystals flowed down from the sky and melted upon making contact with Gohan's aura, and what didn't melt sprinkled itself over Gohan's clothes and through his hair. Not that he was concerned of course, it was only snow after all.

Nevertheless, Gohan blazed his aura out somewhat to warm himself. It was only noon, not that he could tell on account of the clouds, but Gohan still had a few hours to kill and so decided to visit the remainder of his friends.

He was already in the west so what better place to start with than West City?

Traveling in silence, Gohan veered closer to the ground as he felt a plethora of Ki's growing on the horizon. His mother had strictly warned him some time ago that he was not allowed to fly over cities unless it was absolutely necessary, meaning 'end of the world' type scenarios only. Given the threat of Cell and the chaos that had resulted from his very presence, Chi-Chi had decided that in order for Gohan to live a 'normal' life he was to keep his powers a secret… Though she had only come to that conclusion after Gohan had requested they don't reveal that he was the one who truly defeated Cell, a decision his mother respected if with a hint of reluctance.

Gohan couldn't care less for the credit, the fame, or the fact that the current World Martial Arts Champion had declared that _he_ was responsible for saving the Earth. Gohan just wanted to live his quiet and peaceful life and didn't need or want to be constantly reminded that Cell had existed at all.

Besides, he didn't fight for the glory or the prestige. Gohan fought because it was the right thing to do and he was the only one who could do it.

No choice in the matter.

With the city nearing ever closer, Gohan touched down upon the outskirts to avoid detection, slowly but surely, he walked in the direction of Bulma's Ki, located right in the heart of the bustling metropolis. The buildings seemed to glow against the flakes of snow that continued to fall, some places having even put up festive lights and other decorations in celebration of the season. Gohan had scarcely ever been to a city of any sort, looking up in wonder and slight trepidation at the sights he was met with as he continued on his way.

There was just so many people! Rushing back and forth in one direction then the other. Gohan could hardly believe that so many people were together at once in a single place, he couldn't imagine how Bulma could live like this!

 _Then again, she could probably buy the whole city if she wanted_ Gohan thought in amusement, his laughter dispelled when a particularly rude individual budged passed him, shouting "Watch it, kid!" as they did. That annoyed Gohan slightly, there was no reason that person couldn't have apologised, it wasn't as if he'd meant to bump into them in the first place.

Discarding the thought, Gohan jogged on forwards to the large domed building that encompassed the city. It was quite the sight no matter how many times Gohan had seen it. A lot of people looked at him funny as he waltzed through the sliding glass doors and up the stairs as if he owned the place.

Gohan didn't need to stop for directions, even though he still didn't know his way around the building fully, Bulma's Ki was easy enough to identify, he'd known it for a long time now after all.

Prancing down the halls at a merry pace, Gohan took great care to avoid going in the direction of the particularly ominous feeling of Vegeta's Ki that seeming lied in waiting down another hall. Gohan found it peculiar how Vegeta's felt so… uninspired since the Cell Games, he'd heard from Bulma that Vegeta had apparently given up training, a fact Gohan had found quite hard to believe. He never tried to find this out for himself though for obvious reasons.

It still amazed him to hear however; _Vegeta_ giving up training? There was practically nothing in the man's life except training! What could have happened to force such a change in such a stubborn person?

Gohan pondered these thoughts as he walked directly into the Briefs' family residence, the welcoming feeling of Bulma's motherly Ki radiating throughout the building.

"Bulma!" Gohan shouted out, cupping a hand to his mouth. The area appeared deserted but to Gohan it was obvious Bulma was just around the corner with Trunks in hand.

"Gohan? That you?" Bulma voice called back before she walked into Gohan's view, her smile slanting slightly as she rocked a sleeping Trunks in her arms. "I swear, kid, you need to learn to control your volume, once your brother comes along you know you can't just go around announcing your presence like His Royal Shortness."

They both laughed at the remark, Bulma directing Gohan to a seat while she tended to Trunks. He jogged towards and jumped atop the couch, his gaze immediately drawn towards the nearby table where a plethora of sketches, blueprints and designs of what appeared to be machinery lay. On impulse he reached towards the pile, he hand quickly being slapped away as Bulma took her seat next to him. "Don't be nosey, Gohan. That's top secret stuff right there." She met him with a smile. "What brings you out this far anyway? Your mother's okay, right?" She finished with a hint of worry.

Gohan was swift to reassure her, his curiosity towards the pile forgotten. "She's fine, if a bit cranky at times." It wasn't an exaggeration. Gohan had been warned that his mother would be prone to mood swings as the months wore on and the baby's inevitable arrival drew nearer. But given the fact that his mother was quite prone to mood swings _already_ , Gohan could not tell for certain what genuine and what was biology. Some days it was as if he was living with a whole different person.

Now that Gohan reflected for a bit… Perhaps having a day off wasn't so bad after all.

"She gets sad sometimes because of… You know," Gohan said with a frown, snorting it off as quickly as it came. "But she can't wait for the baby to come, neither can I."

"I'll bet, kid," Bulma replied perkily, deliberately exaggerating her tone to amuse Gohan. "So… have you decided on a name yet? I need to know what to call Trunks' future playmate!"

That was an idea Gohan could not help but feel elated by; knowing that his brother was going to grow up with a child his own age to play with, to bond with, to back each other up through the rest of their life's. The thought alone was enough to make Gohan smile. His brother was going to have a strong network of support; a mother who loved him, a big brother to protect him, a dedicated group of friends that would most likely dot over him. If it wasn't for the fact that a single significant person was going to be missing from the equation, Gohan was prepared to deem the plan as utterly perfect.

Though of course he had his hesitations. After all, how often did things really go to plan?

"No names yet, but me and Mom have some ideas. She did want to call the baby Gomen if it was a girl though," Gohan conversed as he relaxed into his seat.

Bulma shifted Trunks in her arms. "That's not too bad if you ask me, that could just as easily be a boys name."

Gohan rubbed his head as his memories of his mother's nagging came to mind. She was quite insistent that that be a _girls_ name only. "Mom would beg to differ!"

The two plus Trunks spent much of their time together simply talking about life; what had happened, what was happening and what they wished and hoped was going to happen. Both ensured that they never veered the conversation into any uncomfortable areas, choosing instead to focus on the fondness in their life's. It had barely been an hour before Trunks began to wrestle his way out of his mother's grip, who instinctively recognised the meaning of the action.

"Someone's hungry, aren't you my little prince," Bulma cooed while Gohan watched in expectancy, mentally taking notes for everything Bulma was doing. The woman rose from her seat and began to walk away, looking over her shoulder at Gohan with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Gohan, but duty calls. You can wait around for me to see you off if you want, but if you feel like going I won't judge."

Weighing his options, Gohan realised that his time was slowly running out. The sun had reached its peak and given the fact it was winter it would only grow darker as his time ticked away. Nodding to Bulma as he stood up, Gohan walked in the direction of the exit, despite the urge to simply jump off the balcony seeming very attractive if only because it was his quickest option.

"That's okay, I want to go see Krillin anyway. I'll see you around, Bulma!" His voice rang as he backed out of the door waving, walking back in the direction he had entered. He always liked Bulma's company, he'd known her and Krillin the longest of everyone and given their adventure together on Namek as well as their connection to his father the three had ended up holding a unique sort of comradery. Gohan could only call himself acquainted with the rest of his father's friends however, he'd didn't really know most of them off of the battlefield.

That was a rather depressing thought. Enough to make Gohan feel he should make more of an effort to connect with the rest of Earth's warriors, they'd done a lot for him so it seemed like the least he could do.

With that thought in mind, Gohan prepared himself to run down the halls and out of the city as quickly as he could before he suddenly froze where he stood, a very familiar and very powerful Ki making itself known behind him from around a corner he had just walked by. He turned slowly on his heels, his back straightening to full height as he looked up and met eyes with a dishevelled, bloody gloved and visibly annoyed Prince of all Saiyans.


	5. Principles

Vegeta glared down at the child who has surpassed him so completely with an expression of such utter contempt it was a wonder why he didn't just lash out at Gohan where he stood. The dampness of his blood-soaked gloves was a minor distraction at best, his attention transfixed on Gohan's uncertain gaze and timid posture, causally shifting his weight onto either foot as Vegeta just continued to stare him down.

Gohan did not like this, and if he was quite honest with himself he didn't really like Vegeta that much either. Their current situation, while certainly uncomfortable, was hardly why Gohan felt so uneasy. He may not hate Vegeta per say, not as much as he once did at least, but he certainly didn't desire to be in his immediate company. For as long as Gohan could remember Vegeta was an antagonistic, ill-tempered and misguided man who when he wasn't defending the earth from peril was apparently plotting its downfall and that of his father.

Vegeta was quite the enigma to Gohan.

Over the years Gohan had certainly noticed a change in Vegeta from the brute he once was to the brute he was now. After Frieza, Trunks and then the Cell Games and his father death, Vegeta was just… different. In what ways he didn't know for certain, but something had clearly changed in the Saiyan, something drastic enough to apparently pacify him and make him give up fighting for good.

Neither the prince nor his supposed subject spoke to the other, both just continuing to simply stare with their donned expression. Gohan did not want to be the first one to say anything, and if he knew Vegeta as well as he thought he did the fact that Vegeta hadn't just dismissed his appearance with a scoff and a scowl was proof enough that he had something to say. Gohan was at the very least curious enough to hear him out, whatever his current hesitations. He owed it to the man to at least give him a chance.

"Your strength is pitiful, you're barely any stronger than you were when you killed Cell," Vegeta suddenly spoke out, his tone firm and gruff.

Gohan resisted the urge to groan, knowing it would do nothing but annoy Vegeta further. While admittedly he hadn't been training nearly enough as he probably should have been, Gohan felt that he of all people had deserved the time off. His confidence in his strength, should it ever be needed again, was absolute. Besides, he had other priorities.

"I train when I can, Vegeta," Gohan replied, standing tall with feigned authority in his voice. "But I have studies and my mother to take care of, I don't have time to train all the time and I wouldn't really want to either."

His point of view was dismissed by Vegeta in an instant, who now decided to turn away with an angry if disappointed grunt. "Pathetic," he spat while walking away. "To squander that new form you unlocked and the inherent abilities you possess. That power is wasted on a child." His head snapped back in Gohan's direction, his eyes bore into Gohan enough to cause him to wince. "It's a disgrace that you don't hone your gifts instead of chasing those frivolous pursuits. It's laughable that I would have ever considered you as a real Saiyan."

If Gohan didn't know any better he'd say that Vegeta seemed extra angry with him today. They may not have gotten along very well but they still held an almost mutual respect for each other due the events they'd lived through together. But still, what had gotten Vegeta so angry now eluded Gohan.

He resisted the urge to say anything in response, _nothing_ good would come from that. Vegeta would never allow for a child to talk back at him, even if that child was several times stronger than he was.

Now that Gohan pondered it, given Vegeta's legendary pride, maybe it wasn't so strange that he was so angry with him.

"To think Kakarot would kill himself only to leave _you_ in his place."

Gohan could only recoil as Vegeta stomped away.

He remained where he stood for some time after that, his expression slumping ever so slightly every second he pondered Vegeta's hurtful words. Gohan felt his shoulders trembled, a sniffle escaping him as the image of his father, standing there with a disappointed and hurt look, refused to leave his sight no matter how hard he tried. Gohan disregarded his mother's rule and made a dash for the nearest balcony he could find, leaping into the air much to the shock and amazement of the people wandering the streets below.

Gohan breathed a sigh of relief as he left the constricting walls of Capsule Corp behind, choosing to fly aimlessly and give himself a moment to think. Was Vegeta right? Was he neglecting his abilities? Neglecting his commitment towards the earth?

Would his dad be proud of him?

Gohan gave a shaky breath, his flight path wavering along with his disposition. In the months since the Games Gohan had assured himself that he would do his father proud, that he would take up his mantle and defend the earth as he had promised to do. Had he become distracted from his mission? Would he really be ready should the time come when his strength was needed again?

 _What does Vegeta know anyway?_ Gohan thought with an agitated snort. _He gave up training, he's not any stronger that he was at the Cell Games either!_

Looking back, Gohan had wished he'd brought that point up at the time. Vegeta most certainly wouldn't have appreciated it but even if it was only for an instant, the sight of Vegeta's face dropping would have made it all worth it.

Besides, it's not like Vegeta would have been able to do anything about it.

Gohan's assured smile grew into an uncomfortable frown at that thought, it wasn't like him to think things like that, even if it was directed towards someone like Vegeta.

Plus, Gohan knew he was making an awful lot of assumptions about his own strength, Piccolo and his dad had always taught him that overconfidence was a liability in a fight; Vegeta was proof enough of that.

As was Gohan.

Expecting to grown saddened, Gohan instead found himself growling in anger.

He had shown weakness at the Cell Games, weakness which had cost him dearly, weakness which he could not allow to hinder him ever again. The only way to conquer that weakness was to overcome and prepare for it, and it all started with his power, his untrained power which was, as Piccolo said, a liability.

Gohan broke from his path, dropping towards the mountain range he found himself in like a falling stone. He tapped down upon the base of a rocky mountain, frozen patches of grass littering the grey and muddy surfaces. He gave three sharp exhales before his muscles tensed and his aura blazed out and alit with a golden glow. His eyes turned emerald and his locks spiked upwards as his power reached its max and his transformation into Super Saiyan was complete.

Gohan sighed hesitantly, not looking forward to what he intended to do next.

The only way to push past his imitations, to push past his weaknesses and fears that held him back was to confront them head on. It was _his_ power, it was his to command and control. He could not give into the temptation, he could not give into those desires brought with that form.

He wouldn't, he couldn't.

One quick grunt was all he needed to feel his Ki begin to swell. Lighting began to crackle around him, growing in scale as the seconds ticked by. Soon the strain was becoming too much, his power bursting past his former thresholds. Gohan yelled into the sky as his aura crackled and the darkening clouds swirled above.

He felt the pain of his hair extending further, pointing up defiantly and with rigidness. His tensed muscles seemingly burst outwards, increasing in size as well as making him appear even taller than he was before. His irises glowed a bright green and shone grander than his hair, blinding Gohan to himself and forcing him to shut his eyes.

His power flowed through him and then outwards, flowing off his aura like wind and spiralling through the air around him. Gohan lurched forward as he felt the transformation complete, even though he could still feel an abundance of power left untapped within.

The power he had now however still made Gohan grin.

There was just so much, _so_ much more than he had ever felt before in his life. Cell had hardly been enough of a challenge to fully exert himself to the full extent of his power, even now Gohan felt as if he could take the android on and he still wouldn't be able to lay a finger on him.

That fact that Cell had been able to injure Gohan at all, that he had been any threat at all was enough to anger Gohan to no end.

How much of an idiot could he have been to think that he was letting himself slip? He'd never felt stronger in all his life! How dare Vegeta say anything to the contrary. What did that ignorant man know anyway, questioning Gohan's power when he was so weak he had completely given up in trying to surpass him?

Gohan decided that maybe Vegeta just needed a demonstration.

He rocketed through the air, the ground crumbling apart in his wake, the snow melting from the sheer energy he was letting off. Vegeta had no idea what he was in for, he was going to show that stupid man up for all the things he had done, for all the times he had insulted Gohan and his friends, for all the snide and stupid things he had said and done.

For all the times he had dishonoured his father.

His father… Who he had let down.

Gohan's aura fizzled out, his pace sputtering to a halt. He looked down towards his hands where lighting still crackled about. He looked towards the single lock that fell between his eyes, bleached and swaying. He felt his bulging muscles threating to burst from beneath the confines of his Gi.

Gohan's hands began to tremble again as the overwhelming assurance and confidence he was consumed with dissipated into utter horror.

A second ago he had wanted to kill Vegeta.

And it wouldn't have been a quick death.

His hair fell down limply and Gohan brought his shaking hands to his mouth, muffling the ragged gasps he released as he floated towards the ground. He collapsed to his knees and simply continued to shake, the residual feelings of utter and complete anger still lingering in his frantic thoughts.

That transformation, that Super Saiyan beyond Super Saiyan… It was petrifying to even consider.

It made Gohan feel like someone else entirely, someone completely willing to do the things he would never do himself.

But worst of all, he didn't even realise that a change had even happened.

Gohan suddenly didn't feel like going to see Krillin anymore, there was nothing he would be able to say to him that would help to distract him from all those thoughts and memories of rage that had just resurfaced in force. As valued as all his friends were, this was just simply a matter they would never be able to understand; they could not comprehend just what that transformation brought out in him.

Gohan decided that burying himself in a good book and staying by his mother's side would be the best possible thing for him right now; helping to remind him just what this effort was worth.

One day soon he would conquer that form, but that day was not today.

As Gohan flew on his way home, the warriors from around the world gazed off into the distance towards the anguished and unyielding power they had all just felt. A certain prince watched from a balcony in West City, his grip upon the fence so intense he cracked the metal into shards.

* * *

 **If you're underwhelmed by Gohan and Vegeta's first encounter, just remember that there is a whole story to go and the next time they meet might not be so civil.**

 **Also how's the pace of things? You may have noticed that its speeding along, Bulma in the last chapter is pretty much the most fillery thing so far so let me know if certain things aren't getting the focus you want.**

 **Also, imminent threat incoming, possibily. Dun dun dun.**


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